Grim Rhapsody

Are things only simple if you limit your exploration of them? Is every person a complex, multifaceted being? Is this balance between simplicity and complexity simple, or complex?

Recently I started seeing people as colors. Not hallucinogenic colors. Colors of the trading card game, Magic: the Gathering. Each of the game’s five colors has a different philosophy. The color wheel is aligned so as to create common ground and conflict between these five philosophies. When I first started playing the game, the colors were simple concepts. White is ordered. Blue is curious. Black is selfish. Red is chaotic. Green is natural. Even if you’ve never played or perhaps even heard of Magic, the concept is basic enough.

But when I started categorising people as a certain color or combination of colors, things started to grow more complex. Some are very easy to place; others take more thought. As time went on, I started wondering if it was even possible to define every individual’s philosophy in terms of these five colors, or if anyone was truly devoid of a particular color. Then I wondered if it was correct to create such boundaries; if I classified a friend as blue/white, does that mean they lack all traits of green, red and black altogether? Surely no one has such clear-cut beliefs. I eventually decided that while all colors will be present in some way in every person, nearly everyone has one or two major defining colors, and in all my categorisation so far, this has proved true.

Then, finally, I asked that inevitable question: what colors am I?

I have not yet been able to answer that question. My favourite colors within the game are blue, black and red. Should this directly align with who I am as a person? Most players I know of do share some major personality traits with the colors they most enjoy playing, but never has it aligned precisely.

Yet the more I considered the question, the more impossible it became to answer. I have, at one point or another, seen parts of all five colors within myself. Perhaps my colors are very obvious to my friends – certainly I rarely have trouble placing them. Most of the time, I imagine that they would see me as primarily blue and secondarily white. But is that really me? There are many aspects of white I dislike.

Obviously, the vast majority of people will not have a thorough understanding of Magic’s colors. Neither can I pursue this question any further on my own. Recently while listening to two of my most like-minded friends discussing their beliefs, I realised that while I understood exactly what each of them meant with every word, I didn’t have any personal opinion on any of it. I cannot recall ever feeling so impartial to such deep-rooted philosophies. One of those friends was utterly blue, perhaps with traces of white and black. The other was nearly entirely green. The major conflict between their viewpoints exactly matched the traditional conflict between those two colors. I won’t go into details, for those who don’t understand that conflict, but after this series, perhaps you will understand better and perhaps I will understand myself better.

Yes, a series of posts. I already mentioned that I recognise traits of all five colors within me. By writing them down, by having them read, I hope to figure out exactly what my beliefs are, because at the moment I feel like I have none at all. So, five posts, one on each color and how it relates to me. I decided I would do black first, because it confuses me the most. Sometimes, deep down, I feel very black; brutally honest thoughts that never rise to vocalisation. Obviously, they are the type of thoughts that are not heard by friends, just as black is the color that has none. If you knew someone who was easy to identifty as black, chances are slim that they would be a close friend. That’s why I want to get it out of the way. (Please note that at no point in this series am I referring to skin color or anything beyond the colors philosophies in Magic.)

The Stirring Shadow

My philosophy is simple: You have to learn to adapt to the world the way it is, not the way you want it to be. I accept that people are selfish. My philosophy takes this as a given. We can sit and moan about how it isn’t fair, or we can take steps to give ourselves the best chance to thrive within this environment.

From the words of the color Black itself, “interviewed” by Magic designer Mark Rosewater as part of a series. It’s this series that originally caused me to begin looking at people through the lens of the color wheel, so I’ll be quoting from it fairly often.

Black, to summise in several words, looks out for itself. In its purest form, it shuns hierarchy, it shuns morality, it shuns law and order. Black believes that humans are inherently selfish, and that to believe otherwise is self-delusion. Black has a very nihilistic outlook on existence. There is nothing beyond what you strive to create for yourself, and you cannot trust others to create it for you. You can never fully trust others, period. Black believes that capitalism is the only working form of government: to give each individual the opportunity and the motivation to build themselves up, in the form of materalistic reward. It’s up to each individual to put in the effort and be rewarded in return. No teamwork, no one enforcing their beliefs upon anyone else. Violence must be used as necessary in one’s own pursuit of power. Some attribute Black with the the quality of “evil”, but Black does not recognise such concepts, which require the necessity of absolute truths in their definitions.

It’s easy to see where my more prominent black beliefs come from. I do not believe in any higher power. I do not accept anyone forcing their beliefs upon anyone else. I do not recognise universal, objective truths or a system of morality that is objectively superior to any other, nor do I recognise much objectivitity in general, and in that sense I am at least influenced by existentialism.

This is not to say that all atheists or even existentialists have large black segments in their philosophy. Both atheism and existentialism often go hand-in-hand with humanism, but such a suggestion of each individual having an intrinsic worth and importance is white/green, completely against black philosophy, and it is here that my differences with Black are brought to the fore. I always consider others – perhaps too much for my own good – and would not step on them or exploit them for my own gain.

Or, perhaps, so I would like to believe. I may not use people blatantly, but that isn’t to say I don’t manipulate them. Perhaps one could describe it as being careful with one’s words. Sometimes it will be for my own gain, sometimes it will be because I believe I know what’s best for them better than they do (a black/white trait), but usually it’s just a reluctance to offend anyone – to keep as many connections and friendships open as possible. This is because there is no sense in terminating a relationship that could prove fruitful in the future, which is essentially a selfish motive. This blue/black way of thinking doesn’t surface very often – as I said above, it’s not the sort of thing you go around warning people about – but I think it is one of the more black parts of me.

If you were to look at all the characters I’ve created in the past couple of years, a theme would emerge: they are all cold towards humanity, all completely without relationships, all utterly self-consumed – all black. I become so involved in creating these characters that it often makes me feel ill with anxiety that I may, deep down, be one of them. But Black often crosses paths with postmodernism, and in this case I am black once more in my belief that everything is a mask. When I’m with others, I’m friendly and always willing to meet new people. When I’m alone, I’m dark and brooding and consuming, sometimes so much so that I’m afraid that writing it here will convince my friends that I am a sociopath. Neither is my “real self” with the other being a “mask”; they are all me. One side belongs to this world, human society, and does what it can to fit in. The other side is utterly detached, ruthless, hidden and ambitious, not belonging but doing what it takes to fit in.

Does that make me radically different to others? No. I am certain that most people have such a black facet to them, but by its very nature, it remains under the surface. It may vary in intensity; I have several friends who I am sure are far more black than myself, and I can see the difference in how they think with friends and how they think alone. It is not that they are putting on an act or a mask – they are sincere in their friendship – but rather that different aspects come out at different times. It is not a question of sincerity, merely visibility.

Hopefully you managed to get through all that without either becoming too confused about what Black entails (or being convinced I’m an evil megalomaniac). If you want some examples of black characters in popular culture, I can give some classics: George Constanza is probably the most iconic, always willing to stoop to any level to further his own motives; Daffy Duck shows that you can have a likeable black character. Bart Simpson and Lex Luthor are also very black.

Well, that’s all for now. I don’t know when I’ll post the next part, but I have a lot of free time now. Join me then when I talk about pyromaniacal urges, wild sex flings and rebellious attitudes.

Otherwise, remember that even that the most black and white of issues are just that: black and white.